“Sir Frederick has given me a new life, you see,” Joseph continued. “He hopes to find a cure for my malady. He brings me books and newspapers to read so that I may keep up on current events. I enjoy reading, and knowing what is happening in the world. My favorite book is the Bible, and I have read it several times. I do long to go to the opera or the theatre like other gentlemen but, alas, that is not to be. But I have met the Princess Alexandra. She is my friend.”
So much like Erik, I thought. It was then that Treves’s intent became clear to me.
“Joseph, I may be able to arrange to call on you now and again. Would you like that?”
He looked briefly at my left hand, marking the ring I wore. “Madame, what would your husband think of you passing time with another gentleman?”
“She’d be better chaperoned than this, Joseph,” a voice behind me said. “No, Madame LeMaitre there is no need to stand. Joseph, you should have asked one of the sisters to remain with you.” Dr. Treves’ tone was gentle yet remonstrative.
“Shall I ring for more cups?” Merrick inquired. “Claire and I are having a lovely tea.”
“It is time for Claire to be going, Joseph. I will be taking her home now.”
I was surprised at how quickly the time had flown.
“Thank you, Monsieur Merrick, for the tea.” I had enjoyed his company, and said so.
“You will come again?” he asked, as he stood. Merrick’s manners were impeccable.
“If Doctor Treves will allow it,” I responded as I donned my shawl and bonnet. I made to leave, but then turned around.
“Monsieur Merrick, you are missing something in your lovely home. There is no tray for me to leave a card showing that I am at home to you.”
“Is that how it is done in most homes, Claire?”
I nodded my assent as I took a card from my reticule and extended it to him.
“I shall have Mrs. Mothershead, the directress of the sisters, arrange for a tray at once,” he responded with dignity as he accepted the little parchment rectangle. “Thank you for your kindness.”
CHAPTER 41
In the carriage, I had a lengthy conversation with Doctor Treves about visiting Joseph on a regular basis. We reached an agreement whereby I would come occasionally to play cards or share books with his patient.
When we arrived at my home, Erik and Gilbert were deep in conversation. After saying my farewells to Doctor Treves, Erik asked Gilbert to excuse us. We were alone.
From the pages of Erik’s journal:
My conversation with Claire that afternoon was most enlightening. While Gilbert had told me that she was unhappy playing the lady of leisure, I had no idea how deeply entrenched that feeling had become.
However, there was some tension. When Claire told me she had spent the afternoon visiting with Joseph Merrick, whose name was known to me through the newspapers, and that she intended to do so again, I could not contain my outburst.
“Is it your intent, Claire, to collect every broken creature and sideshow freak on the planet?”
I wished I could take back the words as soon as I saw the injured look on her face. Her kindness to both Rochambeau and me was not a thing to throw up in an argument, and yet that was just what I had done.
“You, of all people, should know the answer to that,” she said quietly as she stood and made her way toward the staircase.
“Oh, God, Claire. I am so sorry.”
Her hand on the newel post, she turned to face me.
“Are you, Erik? Christine, after all, would not want to spend her time tending to an injured horse, or a rescued cat or, god help her, yet another beautiful soul who has been mistreated because of a misshapen body.” A single tear coursed down her cheek. “I can never live up to what she would do, Erik. I can only be who I am.”
“Is that what all of this is about?” I was astonished.
“No, Erik, it’s only part of it. I feel useless. Stultified. I’m trying to do the right things, be the right kind of wife for a man of your position. And then, I see how you looked at that girl. I’m not stupid, Erik. I know you still love her.”
She turned and mounted the stairwell. I spoke softly to her retreating back, but I knew she would hear.
“Claire, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
She turned and looked down to where I stood.
“Am I?”
* * * * *
“Am I?”
The words hung in the air between us. My tone betrayed my exhaustion, misery and depression as well as an overt challenge. When Erik said nothing, I made my way upstairs to my room once more. I almost turned around, but decided that I couldn’t bear to see the pity in Erik’s eyes: pity for the woman whom he had not loved so well as he thought.
“Claire,” he whispered, laying a hand on my shoulder.
I started; his habit of moving in catlike silence had never changed and he’d come up behind me quickly. I turned to face him. He was standing on the next riser down from me, which reduced the disparity in our heights. His anguish showed in the emerald gaze he turned toward me.
“I don’t know what else I can do but to tell you, Claire.” His voice was just as quiet and defeated as mine had been moments before. “After that, I can only ask that you believe me.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I remained silent for a moment, gathering my thoughts.
“Erik, I ...”
My words were silenced by a kiss that was both tender and passionate. His lips were gentle and firm and, as always, I melted at his touch.
“I need you, Claire,” he whispered afterward. “I love you.”
“I promised Monsieur Merrick that I would call upon him again, Erik.” My tone was slightly less defiant but firm nonetheless.
“Very well, then,” Erik responded. “I will have Michael take you to the hospital.”
I agreed to the plan, asking to be taken to London Hospital around three o’clock the next day. That would allow for a pleasant visit with my new acquaintance.
Erik pressed his lips to the back of my hand. “Of course, Claire. Whatever will help.”
I was about to go upstairs when the bell rang. Erik himself opened the door to admit Lady Alice Harrington, who sailed past him without a by-your-leave.
“Claire, you and I must talk. I was here earlier and your butler said you’d been taken to hospital.”
“I had a doctor’s appointment,” I replied. I figured it was none of her business why I had been there. I gestured toward the parlor, and Alice made herself at home.
“We must speak Claire. Your behavior is reprehensible. You are never ‘at home’ to company. You prefer the company of animals and ... servants ... to women of your own station. You don’t call on others who have left cards on you. It’s scandalous, Claire; the other ladies have remarked on it. And now, Lady Anne Treves tells me you spent the afternoon in the company of some circus freak of her husband’s. You need to think about Erik’s position and keep to your place.”
I lashed out, no longer able to contain my fury.
“Alice, I find cold comfort in the idea that someone claiming to be my friend would allow me to become fodder for idle gossip. The ladies who leave cards on me do not leave their addresses. You are the only one to whom I am at home, and I believe it is only so that you can carry new gossip to the others.”
“You see?” Alice continued placidly. “You are so ... French. Good English women would never put themselves in a position to provoke gossip. It appears to be a French habit, though. For goodness’ sake, the Vicomtesse de Chagny doesn’t even have the decency to go into confinement ... showing off her condition in society.” She made a disapproving moue.
I was appalled, to say the least, and could not muster a response. Beyond appalled, I was hurt by what I saw as my friend’s betrayal.
“I wouldn’t want to embarrass you any further,” I whispered. “Perhaps it is best if you go.”
“I’m sorry, Claire. I thought it best that you knew.”
She rose then and left our home, without bothering to leave a card in the salver.
I slept alone again that night. Erik did not tell me where he spent his nights, and I was too bereft to care. I wanted real friends, friends who spoke my language and did not mock me behind my back. It seemed such a simple thing, and yet it was not to be. The only French voices I heard were Erik and Gilbert, and it was not enough. At the same time, I had to try harder to fit in for Erik’s sake. I fell asleep with my arms around the toy Josephine, planning how I would be a better wife.
CHAPTER 42
Now I had told Erik how I felt about my lot, and he did not say a word one way or the other. I thus had no idea whether he was in agreement with the concerns I expressed. All I knew was that I was miserable. The whole thing made me ineffably sad.
I saw Erik as being part of the same social class as any landed gentry. His investments meant that he need not keep an office in someone else’s firm. Yet, I had not thought of how I fit into that particular picture. I could only try to undo whatever damage I had unwittingly caused.
I gathered up a deck of cards and some books for Joseph Merrick; Michael Stubbins took me to London Hospital in our little coach. Merrick and I could play a hand or two of some game and talk for a while before Michael collected me. After getting directions from two different sisters, I made my way to Joseph Merrick’s rooms once again. I knocked at the door and let myself in.
“Doctor Treves? Monsieur Merrick?” I called quietly.
“One moment,” came Merrick’s muffled voice from the small back room. He emerged whilst adjusting his necktie.
“Oh! Madame LeMaitre! I am so glad you have come to visit again. Sir Frederick is lecturing just now.”
“Please, Joseph. We had agreed that you were to call me Claire,” I smiled. “I brought you some gifts.” I proffered the parcel to him.
“This really is too kind,” Joseph demurred as he unwrapped the books and cards. “Sir Frederick’s friends are too generous to me. Just last night, Mrs. Kendall brought me the loveliest fitted travel case. Do you know Mrs. Kendall? She is an actress.”
I shook my head “no,” and Merrick continued.
“Sir Frederick brought her to visit yesterday evening. I never thought that I would have such beautiful lady callers as you and Mrs. Kendall. She left her photograph for me as well. Shall I ring for tea?”
Merrick seemed particularly excited today, I thought, as he jumped from subject to subject.
“Tea would be very nice, thank you.”
Merrick rang for a sister and made his needs known: “The nice cups today, if you please, Nora. As you can see, I have a guest and we really must not stint in these situations.”
When the young nurse departed, Joseph asked if I wanted to play whist. I had to confess that I did not know the game, nor did Merrick know the ones with which I was familiar.
“Very well, then, let us just chat,” he said as another sister brought in the tea tray. “Thank you, Sister. Claire, would you pour out, please?”
I poured the steaming liquid into delicate porcelain cups painted with violets; Nora had taken Joseph at his word.
I had planned to make small-talk: to pretend that I was at Alice Harrington’s at-home day and talk about the weather and such. I wanted to practice so that I would make no more of my ignorant French mistakes. Instead, I found myself telling Joseph everything that had transpired, beginning with the opera gala and culminating in Lady Harrington’s visit the day before.
Merrick remained silent for a moment and then placed his empty cup and saucer on the tray. Once again, I could not help but mark the contrast between his graceful hand and his misshapen face.
“Claire,” he spoke at last, ‘”Men like your husband and me really want only one thing: to be accepted by society. Erik enjoys the advantage of having a wife. I, on the other hand, despair of being loved by a woman.”
“You too, Joseph? Does no one think I am capable of doing right?”
Joseph handed me his handkerchief, for I had started to cry.
“I never say things correctly,” he sighed. “I wish I had a wife to be gossiped over: someone who loves me for myself and doesn’t care about the mortal shell. Do you know how I envy your Erik? I have even asked Doctor Treves if he might find a place for me at a hospital for the blind. That way, perhaps a woman would love me without having to look at my face.”
I tried very hard to calm myself, but I failed miserably.
“Claire, please don’t cry.” Merrick moved to sit next to me on the settee and was patting my hand gently (I was sure he had read somewhere that this was comforting) when Erik walked into the room.
“Monsieur Merrick, I presume?” Erik sketched a bow as Merrick stood. “I see that you have met my wife already.”
“Erik,” I sniffled as I folded Joseph’s handkerchief, “This is Joseph Merrick. Monsieur Merrick, I will have your kerchief laundered and returned to you.”
Erik and Joseph sized one another up for a brief silent period. Then, with a graceful gesture, Erik removed his mask.
“She understands us very well, doesn’t she?” he said quietly before covering his ravaged face again.
“Yes, Monsieur LeMaitre,” Joseph said. “I can only hope to be as blessed as you one day. She loves you very much.”
Erik nodded. “If you want her to come again, I will arrange for it.”
Every inch of me wanted to cry out that I could speak for myself. Instead, I remained silent.
“I will send an invitation around, if that’s all right,” Merrick said. “Perhaps, the next time, you will both come and we can teach Madame LeMaitre to play whist. And, Madame, I would be honored if you would bring me a photograph to add to my mantle. Doctor Treves tells me that people display photographs of their friends and family there.”
We said our goodbyes then, and Erik and I went through the corridors to the waiting gig.
“I thought to surprise you by collecting you myself,” Erik said as he helped me to the seat. He flicked the reins across Blackjack’s patient haunches and we trotted smartly through town back toward our home.
I was seated to Erik’s right; the mask hid much of his expression. He was freshly shaven and barbered and his clothing, as always, was immaculate. Gilbert had proved to be the perfect valet for my fastidious husband. It was all I could do to keep my hands folded daintily in my lap. My strongest impulse was to caress Erik’s well-muscled thigh in a manner that could only be a prelude to lovemaking. However, I suspected that proper English ladies did not do such things at all, let alone in open carriages. I wanted desperately to do the right thing by my husband.
“You are uncharacteristically quiet, Claire,” he finally remarked, his tone neutral. “Perhaps you would like to tell me why? Or did you manage to get it all out of your system whilst crying in Monsieur Merrick’s arms?”
Once again, I found myself relating my discussions with Lady Harrington. I rambled on about visiting cards, and at-home days ... and realized that I was not making much sense.
Finally, I just blurted it out. “I will try, Erik. I will do everything I can to be the right kind of wife for a man of your position. But it won’t be easy for me.”
Erik was silent, so I continued.
“You know I wasn’t born to this. I’m not Olympia Harrington, with a dragon-like mama teaching me every move to make. Nor am I Alice Harrington, who is good at sitting about and doing little but gossip. But, I will try.”
This last came as Erik pulled the gig into our cobblestoned stable yard. Michael was there to take Blackjack’s reins.
“Once the horses are cared for, I want you go go home to Maggie and your children, Michael. I don’t want to see any of you for the next three days. Madame needs the quiet to recover.”
“Yes, sir,” Michael replied.
I nodded, wondering what my husband was about, as the two of us went into the house.
“Just what is it that you think I want in a wife?” Erik whispere
d, bending down so that his warm breath caressed my ear.
He brushed his lips across my forehead.
“Go upstairs. I’ll join you momentarily.” His green eyes were dark with unmistakable desire.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him closer for a kiss.
“I’ll be waiting,” I whispered back, and then went upstairs, unpinning my bonnet as I went. This was, no doubt, another deplorable habit. Just then, I didn’t care.
CHAPTER 43
January-February 1890
From the pages of Erik’s journal:
Those days alone, even though the Stubbins family was just across the yard in their home above the carriage house, were a tonic to Claire and me both. She shed the air of melancholia that had hung about her since the opera gala. Her demeanor was gay as she played with Pierre or worked with Angel in the yard.
And, oh, when we made love. Words cannot express how profoundly beautiful it was to be in her embrace, tasting her kisses and drinking in the warm scent of her skin.
Gilbert and Honor used one of those free days to visit Gretna Green and were married. Claire and Maggie prepared a wedding supper for them, and we all sat together in the large dining room. When Honor expressed her concerns about the propriety of servants eating with the family, Claire silenced her with a laugh.
“Honor, my dear, we are en famille: with our family. You are my friends, you know.” She presented Honor with a beautifully embroidered shawl, and gave Gilbert a handsome walking stick with a blue glass ball for a handle.
I was very happy, and it seemed that Claire’s fears about her place in society had ebbed. She occasionally went on calls with Madame Harrington, leaving cards on the society matrons. Her friendship with that lady had cooled considerably, but Claire made every possible effort to fit in with polite society.
As the weeks wore on, I watched Claire grow sad again. On yet another at-home day when no one came to call, I found her in tears in the parlor.
THE SEDUCTION OF GABRIEL STEWART Page 15
